Verse 11 - And Prayers Are Turned Into Empty Promises (Part 2)
by LaueHime
Summary: Underneath a Stretching Skyline, sammyverse # 11. Kinda curtain fic and a bit AU for a while. Sam is disabled and Dean brings them out of the hunt to take care of his brother.


**Title: **… And Prayers Are Turned Into Empty Promises (Part 2), verse #11

**Author:** Lauehime

**Rating:** Mature

**Genre/pairing:** H/C, Angst, Family, Gen

**Characters:** Sam, Dean, Bobby, hints of Lucifer

**Word count:** +/- 8,400

**Warnings:** Some cussing, alcohol/drug abuse, moderate to high levels of angst, dangerous fluff

**Summary: **It kinda turned into a curtain fic for a while. Sam is disabled and Dean brings them out of the hunt to take care of his brother.

Written for spnshannanigans's prompt on LJ's ohsam which is "Sam's memories from hell threaten to overwhelm him every moment of every day. To calm the storm in his head, he comes to rely on either drugs or alcohol (or both). Dean allows this to continue (for now anyway) because he doesn't know how to help Sam and he can't stand the screaming"

**Disclaimer:** The show belongs to Kripke.

**A/N:** This is a series of verses. Every chapter can be read as a standalone story. But of course, it'll make more sense if you've read them all (or at least most of them). Each verse has its own title based on the lyrics of the song the fic is named after.

**A/N 2:** This is the second part of verse 10. I've taken medical liberties in this one. And I don't know where this came from, really. Maybe I'm the one with a funny brain!

Feedback is love. Enjoy!

SNSNSNSN

It hadn't been an easy decision to make. On one side there was Dean, assuring him that everything would be okay. On the other side, there was Lucifer. What more could he say? That was a big enough argument. Lucifer, but also his own issues. He wanted to blame the devil but the choice was his. It had been his all along. Lucifer wasn't the one to bring the bottle to his lips. Drinking his problems away had been his decision.

Now he had to pay for it. He didn't want to hurt Dean. His big brother deserved better. Dean didn't need to watch him deteriorate. He wouldn't let his brother see that.

Which led to the ultimate decision of leaving. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Sam thought he could handle himself. He had done so for a while, anyway. Keeping a straight face for Dean was taking up a lot of energy, but he had gotten better with practice.

Unfortunately he had no more energy to spare on keeping up appearances. He was a mess and nothing would change that. But there was one thing he could change. He could change Dean's fate. His brother would be better off without him. Dean could finally live a life of his own.

Sam was tired of feeling like a burden.

He ran through the parking lot with what strength he had left. It wouldn't be long before Dean realized he was gone. He needed to move quickly.

There was an old beat up car at the far end of the aisle. It appeared like the perfect get away. Dean would expect him to grab something a little less 'visible'. That's why he couldn't let his brother guess what his next moves would be. He had to think differently because after all, his brother knew him better than anybody.

Opening the car was easy and starting it was even easier. He had years of practice up his sleeve. As soon as the engine was running, he sped away from the parking lot, wheels screeching against the asphalt. He turned a corner abruptly and ended up trapped when there was nothing but concrete; no way out. He had to get out.

Sam didn't think when he pulled the car into reverse and collided with a stack of garbage. He cursed loudly as the trash moved around the back of the car to trap him. He pulled the gear back into drive and pushed down the gas pedal.

As easily as he'd been trapped in, he was running out.

Finally, a sense of freedom dawned upon him. He could finally deal with his demons in peace.

'Howdy Sam' Lucifer greeted, appearing suddenly next to Sam.

The hunter jumped in surprise and almost veered off the road.

'Don't get so excited. I didn't know you were so eager to see me' the devil jeered.

Sam's brow knit in frustration.

"Get out of here!" he hollered.

Lucifer mocked an offended look.

'I'm hurt to see that you don't want me here. I've been good company to you'

Sam's jaw clenched further.

"You're as good of a company as a diarrhea" he muttered through gritted teeth.

Lucifer giggled coldly. It ran shivers all along Sam's spine.

'I like your sense of humor, Sam. I do. You'd be a good comedian where I come from'

Sam considered the thought of going back to Hell and his stomach churned.

"Why don't you go back there, while you're at it?" Sam proposed desperately.

Satan sneered. 'Having too much fun with you. You're very… comical'

Sam felt as if he'd been dunked in ice water. The devil was just that creepy when he used such positive words with his eyes cold and deep as the bottom of the ocean.

"Listen. Go. Right now. Or I'm crashing this car" Sam threatened. There was something desperately serious in his eyes. Lucifer swallowed, a look a disappoint crossing his pout.

'Party pooper' he accused.

Sam didn't even twitch. Before he knew it, he was back to being alone in the car. A strange feeling crept up his gut, but he blamed it on running away from the hospital so soon. He turned the radio on and tuned it loud enough to keep himself awake.

Soon enough, his hands started to twitch. He hadn't had alcohol in two days. That was the longest he'd been sober in a long time. Actually, he couldn't remember much about the time when he wasn't always drunk. The wall had broken and then everything had been ripped to pieces. The rest was a blur, not that it mattered anymore, anyway.

The alcohol made it better. Or it didn't make it worse. That was one of the very few small mercies he had left. And then sometimes, when he was lucky, there were the pills. He'd managed to steal some from the hospital, on his way out. That and a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

That was better than running away in a hospital gown. People would have gotten suspicious.

He held the steering wheel tightly with one hand while fumbling for the pills with his other hand. It was dark outside and the lights from the road tended to melt into a giant mess of beams and colors.

To his greater pleasure, it also started to rain. Droplets sparkled brightly through the windshield they had chose to rest against. He blinked heavily at the show of lights.

He popped the pills into his mouth and closed his eyes in relief. The tremors and abdominal pain would go away. Finally. He already knew he was a failure. He didn't need his body reminding him of that.

Soon, he hit the highway. There weren't so many lights out there to keep him company. He felt heavy and tired. The week had been rough. He had to be exhausted.

The wipers swiped the water away, tossing it to the outer sides of the large windshield.

He blinked.

And blinked.

His eyes grew heavier and there was this dull ache rising against his skull. This wasn't supposed to happen. The pills were supposed to make him feel better.

He tried to focus his eyes on the road but they wanted to follow the rhythmic movement of the wipers. The back and forth motion was lulling him to sleep. Closing his eyes was just so tempting.

He suddenly let out a slight cough. Was he getting sick or was the air getting thicker? The heaters were on so he turned them down. His heart was beating fast into his ears.

Still, he felt like lying down and sleeping.

He blinked. And blinked.

And took far too long to reopen his eyes again.

Lucifer was silently watching from the backseat. Sam hadn't even noticed him.

"Need to… get… 'way… tired" Sam moaned to himself. He prayed for an exit.

To his luck, there was one about a minute from him.

"Hold… on…" he told himself.

The road was just a few paces away. He slowed when he reached the exit track. He was dreaming of a bed with his name on it.

He drove for minutes and still didn't find anything short of a resting area. His eyes were burning.

'_Rock a bye baby, in the tree top. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, cradle and all_' Lucifer sang, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

'_And down will come baby, cradle and all_' he repeated, emphasizing the feeling of falling.

Sam was too far gone to notice. He only had time to move the car to the side of the road before passing out, the engine still purring.

SNSN

Everything felt and sounded muffled as if he were wrapped in cotton wool. The sounds, the smells, they felt off. As if they couldn't reach him. As if he were detached.

His heavy lids finally lifted of their own accord. Slowly and sluggishly, but at least they seemed functional.

Everything was white and bright until contrasts returned to his vision.

There was that mask strapped around his face. It made him claustrophobic.

The sounds started to make sense. Beeping monitors. They were wailing loudly and quickly.

Before he had a chance to do something about the annoying mask and the screeching noises, a flurry of activity surrounded him. He heard voices. They were telling him to calm down. They were telling him to trust them. How could he do that? He didn't even know who these people were.

Most importantly, there was a pair of green eyes that he was searching for desperately. Why couldn't he find them anywhere? His brain felt cloudy and he couldn't remember.

His mind seemed to detach farther away from his body. His consciousness felt like it was floating, as if he were watching himself from a veil outside of himself. Outside of every living thing. He watched himself trash on his hospital bed and the doctors yelling orders and pushing plungers, injecting more medicine into his bloodstream.

He felt foreign to his own meat suit. Was he being possessed again? Why did he feel so far away?

And where was the only person that really mattered?

His world faded to black before his tired brain could come up with an answer.

When he woke up again, he felt calmer. His muscles were relaxed. It didn't feel natural. He tried to move his fingers, but their movement didn't follow his thoughts. He thought that this was just being weird, that it must have been the drugs.

A woman was by his side quickly. He tried to listen to her voice. It was peaceful and warm.

"Sam? Can you hear me? Sam?" she tried. He just blinked at her, content with watching the light in her eyes and the little halo that surrounded her. He felt at peace. But there was still something that was missing. He frowned in confusion. He could only remember the pair of green eyes but suddenly, he couldn't recall whom they belonged to.

"Don't worry. You're in the hospital. You're safe. Do you remember what happened?" she asked. He turned back to her and studied her eyes. They were soft. And there was something in them. A certain hue he had seen before, but not in her eyes. He had seen it in _his _eyes. It was concern.

He wanted to say something, to reach out to her even with a hand contact, but none of his commands were reaching the proper equipment. Was his machinery broken? His brow creased with worry.

"What is it, Sam? Can you talk to me?"

He managed to shake his head and sighed with relief. At least that was working.

"It's okay. Let it come back to you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He nodded. There was a sparkle of hope inside his chest. Small mercies they were. Little movements, one at the time. Come on, buddy. You can do it.

"Okay. That's good. Here, let me try something" she proposed and then grabbed both his hands. She applied a soft pressure in his right palm.

"Do you feel that?"

He nodded. She repeated the exercise with the other hand and both his feet. He nodded the three times.

"Good. Can you move your feet now? Take one at the time and focus" she instructed as Sam seemed to blow a vein just by concentrating on the simple task. With a lot of effort and concentration, he managed to move both limbs albeit sluggishly. The small movement left him exhausted.

"I know this is difficult, but you're doing great" she assured.

He opened his eyes to slits and motioned for her to move closer. She walked around the bed and got as close to him as she could.

"Wha…what… hap… happened" he forced out, concentrating on each word. The trouble he was having left him more than baffled with his sudden condition.

"You suffered acute carbon monoxide poisoning" she announced. His eyes widened.

"What?" he asked, clearly. She appeared empathetic.

"The paramedics found you passed out in your car. Your exhaust pipe was blocked, which kept the carbon monoxide from escaping. It remained in the car instead, which led you to pass out and breathe a considerable amount of the gas" she explained.

He stared at her, mouth gaping at the news. So he'd been poisoned? He had heard of CO poisoning before and it was not a situation to take lightly.

"How… bad?" he gasped out.

There was a look in her eyes that he didn't like. Something that resembled pity and if there was one thing that he hated, it was pity.

"That was two days ago. You've been unconscious ever since. The levels of CO in your blood were moderately high. Speaking of which, I have to draw a blood sample for the labs. That's how we can determine if the gas is completely out of your system" she announced.

He let her retrieve some blood for her tests.

"What now? Am I going to be okay once it's out?" he asked, his speech already improving albeit still a bit slurred.

"That's what we'll need to monitor. CO poisoning can lead to serious sequela. That's why we're going to start rehabilitation as soon as you're strong enough to move" she announced.

Sam's eyes widened with fear, his drugged muscles cramping from sudden tension.

"No!" he refused loudly. She slightly jumped at the rise in tone and turned wide surprised eyes to him.

"Sam, you suffered an anoxic brain injury. Without the rehabilitation, you're risking permanent disabilities" she coaxed.

Sam started to fidget. His eyes turned wild and he started towards the wires attached to him.

"No no no. Gotta get out of here. Can't stay. Find him. No therapy. No no no" he jabbered.

She stared at him in shock before intervening.

"Sam, stop. You'll hurt yourself. Calm down"

He tried to push her off in his panicked state of mind. She dodged him and grabbed an emergency needle for cases like this one. She reached Sam's hip and didn't hesitate before sedating him.

When he woke up, his mouth felt like cotton and his head felt foggy.

"Where m' I?" he asked.

The woman from before was staring at him with an expectant look.

"Don't you remember?"

He shook his head and his eyes turned wide and scared.

"What happen'd?"

Her mouth fell open and sadness filled her eyes.

"I told you already. Can you try to remember?"

A look of pain appeared on his face when he tried to concentrate. Just as she'd feared, he was starting to show signs of delayed anoxic brain injury.

"You suffered from carbon monoxide poisoning, Sam. Luckily, the tests show that your blood is clear. Unfortunately, you're showing signs of cognitive impairment due to the lack of oxygen that your brain suffered" she explained and stopped. She knew this had to be a lot to take in.

Indeed, the boy looked pained. She felt a stab of sympathy for him, whom still hadn't had a visitor. His medical file was rather full of holes as well. He was mysterious, yet she felt appealed to help him.

"I have to go" he said softly. She could tell that he was on the verge of tears.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't let you. We need to start your rehabilitation so you can heal fully" she tried.

He shook his head sternly.

"Can't stay. 'm sorry"

She frowned and crossed her arms around her chest.

"Why not?"

"Because. Can't explain it. Just have to go"

She sighed in defeat.

"Whatever I say, you'll leave anyway, right?"

He nodded. She thought for a second.

"I have a deal to make. If you promise to follow my two conditions, you can go"

Sam studied her for a few seconds. His round hazel eyes were wary. Yet, something lit in them. The doctor would never know what, but she would put her money on hope.

"Deal" he finally said.

SNSN

Bobby killed the engine when he reached the old motel parking lot. It was really small and shabby, but they'd be quiet and it's really everything that mattered to him at that moment.

Sam was napping on the passenger seat. Bobby studied him for a moment. He couldn't help but to remember the call he had gotten from the hospital. Sam was threatening to leave AMA and the only way they would let him do this is if someone picked him up and stayed with him. That was one condition. And there was the other one that made Bobby's eyes turn to the back of the truck for a second.

For Sam, calling his uncle had been a hard move to make. He was adamant on taking care of himself, but one of the conditions to leave the hospital had been to have someone with him. Remembering his fight with his brother, he had decided to call Bobby instead. He insisted on the fact that Dean couldn't be made aware of this. Bobby had agreed even though he was strongly against that idea.

Sam was in no condition to be left alone for the moment. Bobby felt bad for the kid. But he'd rather have it this way instead of Sam just running away and holing up somewhere to die. At least now he could keep an eye on the kid.

Sam stirred softly. He was surprised to see Bobby.

"Bobby? What are you doing here?" he asked.

Bobby's lips tugged into a sad smile.

"You called me remember?"

The doctors had warned him about the memory problems. They also gave him a list of things to watch out for. Some of the points were rather scary. He prayed Sam wouldn't get that bad. He was made aware that the symptoms could take a while to appear. He would have to keep an eye open. Poor kid.

Sam looked puzzled. "I did?"

Bobby nodded. "To pick you up from the hospital. Doctors didn't want you to be alone"

Sam seemed to think for a second. "Right" he said. Now that Bobby mentioned it, some of it did make sense.

"So. You ready to get in there? I'll even help you unpack"

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Bobby"

Bobby let out another sad smile. "Sure, kiddo. C'mon"

Sam pulled the door open and let himself slide off the seat. His legs were a little wobbly. He assumed it was because he hadn't moved in a while. He leaned on the car for support while Bobby unpacked the material. The doctor had left Sam a little parting gift.

"You need my help to get inside?"

"Which room is it?" Sam asked, looking at all the doors and all the different numbers.

"The one right in front of ya"

Sam turned surprised eyes at the fact that indeed, Bobby had managed to stop the car right in front of a door. He should have figured, but something made thinking difficult. He slowly walked up the front porch and leaned against the door. Even walking that short distance had taken a lot out of him.

Bobby came right next to him and unlocked the door with his key. Sam pushed his way inside and crashed on the nearest bed. Bobby had taken a double room in case he needed to stay with Sam. The look on the youngest Winchester assured him that he'd made the right decision.

He settled everything around Sam so that everything would be easy. Sam was supposedly on bed rest. At first, Bobby wondered if that was ever going to happen. After seeing the kid, he wondered if Sam could actually try to weasel his way out of bed rest. He hardly looked strong enough to make his way to the lobby and back.

Sam was lying down, but he wasn't sleeping. Bobby could tell that much. He sat on the other side of the bed and waited in silence.

"You won't tell Dean, uh Bobby?" Sam suddenly asked, his tone tainted with worry. It pained him to have to keep such a secret. Sam was hurting, he needed his brother. Stubborn kid and his stupid pride…

"Not if you don't want me to… but Sam, you could use your brother's help…"

"No!" Sam interrupted. "Dean's better off without me. I'll just be burdening him more" he added.

Bobby felt his face fall off.

"Do you seriously believe that? Dean's been worrying himself sick in the past days!"

Sam bit his bottom lip to keep it from shaking. "I don't need him to worry around me all the time. I know I'm damaged. I don't need him to remind me of it every second of everyday" there was a cracking in his voice at the end of his statement. Bobby had heard it.

"You're not damaged, son. You're havin' a rough time. Hell, we all are! But you're not alone in this. We can help you"

Tears rolled down Sam's cheeks before he could stop them. He turned to face Bobby. The eldest's heart squeezed in pain when he saw that the kid he loved like a son was crying.

"First it was Lucifer and now this… the brain damage thing… I don't call that a rough time! It's more like the world's fucking out there to get me!"

Bobby felt as if he was being crushed on the inside. How could such a young man put up with so much shit?

"I understand, son. I do. But you've got us. You've got me"

Sam scowled.

"You think you understand but you don't know shit!" he growled angrily.

Bobby took a deep breath to keep from exploding.

"Is that what you think? May I remind you that I've gone through the Apocalypse with no legs and a demon holding my soul! Do you think it was easy? Do you think that there weren't days when I felt like I was a liability? There were! Hell, everyday was just another nightmare and every night, I stared at the bottom of my gun and wondered if it would be my last. I could've put a bullet through my skull, but I didn't. I didn't because I had you boys and if you remember well, you're the ones who told me to not give up!" Bobby stopped to catch his breath. Sam was listening attentively.

"Now you listen to me. I know how you feel. I might not have gone through Hell, but I know what it's like to be haunted. I know what it's like to feel so desperate you wish you'd die instead. But someday you wake up and the pain's gone and you're just fucking happy to have people you can count on! And maybe the next morning you'll wake up and feel like fucking shit again but that's life, kid! It's not meant to be easy… but you can either sit around and cry, or you can get up and kick some asses!" Bobby concluded.

Sam had listened through the whole speech. His cheeks had dried.

"Are you even gonna remember the shit I just said?" Bobby blurted out.

"Hope so" Sam mumbled, his eyes starting to droop.

"Idjit" Bobby slipped. A light grin lit his face. Sam smiled softly in return and closed his eyes.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll be here all night if ya need anything"

Sam nodded softly. His breathing deepened as he let sleep claim him. Just as Bobby thought he was finally out, Sam whispered a quiet _thank you._ Bobby's heart melted with sympathy.

SNSN

Bobby stayed with Sam for a few days. He was puzzled at how Sam could get confused over random daily activities. He had to research more on late effects of CO poisoning to understand what exactly was made difficult for Sam in his situation.

Sam wasn't exactly in the best of moods either. He was easily irritated and kept quiet when he wasn't complaining about something. He'd tried reading or watching TV, but he found that he had a hard time focusing on anything for more than a few minutes at the time. It left him angry over anything else.

Bobby tried to stay calm and help Sam when something proved to be difficult, but Sam definitely wasn't an easy patient. He didn't like to be nursed either. But when Bobby tried to cut him some slack, Sam got confused and forgot his treatments. Since they were crucial for his recovery, Bobby started nursing again, much to Sam's dismay.

When Bobby assumed that Sam was improving slightly, he decided to leave. He still had things to look out for, even though he didn't like the idea of leaving the kid alone. He might try to call Dean. Sam had made it clear that he didn't want his brother around but he couldn't stay alone in his condition.

Bobby saw no other solution and decided to make the call. Dean was less than pleased to hear that his father figure had been with his little brother without inviting him.

"It didn't occur to you to call me?" Dean spat over the phone.

"Kid made it pretty clear that he didn't want me to" Bobby admitted sadly.

"And now you're calling me, why?"

Bobby sighed. He had big news to convey and he knew Dean wouldn't be happy to hear what had been kept hidden from him for so long.

"Something happened, Dean. I picked Sam up in a hospital" the eldest confessed.

"And you didn't call me? Why exactly shouldn't I come over and kick your fucking ass right now?"

Bobby closed his eyes. Dean had every right to be angry, but he had needed Sam's trust when he first got to him and that implied lying to Dean at the time. Was not telling him actually lying? He couldn't tell, but the secret was out. He couldn't bear that responsibility alone any longer.

"Your brother begged me not to call you. But it's bad, Dean"

As soon as the words were out, Dean's fury left him to be replaced by concern and fear.

"Bad? What do you mean, Bobby? What's wrong with my brother?"

Bobby recognized this caring Dean for what he was – an overprotective, mother hen of a brother. No matter how Dean screwed up by not always being sensitive with Sam, he still cared that much about his brother's well-being. Bobby couldn't deny him that much.

"Kid stole a car. The exhaust was clogged…" he started to say when Dean spoke up immediately.

"Wait, what? He okay?"

"Not so much. Doctors said he'd taken a strong dose of painkillers, which contributed to him passing out and breathing a large amount of carbon monoxide. Kid managed to get the car stopped first, at least. But when they found him, engine was still running and your brother was almost… they said it was a close call"

A lump had formed in Dean's throat and left him unable to say anything. Instead, he left like the air was choked out of him.

"They got all the toxins out of his blood and he was unconscious for over a day. But then he woke up and got all agitated when they started talking about rehabilitation" Bobby recalled the painful memory. That discussion with Sam's doctor hadn't been a pleasant one.

"So what now? Where is he?" Dean finally asked, finding his voice again.

"In a motel room. I was with him, but now I need to leave and he can't stay alone. I swear, Dean, he needs help"

Dean shivered. He didn't like that desperate tone in Bobby's voice. The older hunter never used that tone unless something was really bad.

"I'm on my way. Just tell me where he is"

SNSN

Dean reached the small motel and silently thanked Bobby for finding a quiet place. Sam didn't need to be surrounded by a flurry of activity. He knew his brother well enough to know that Sam needed security. For them, this meant small and quiet. That was just the thing.

He knocked on the door and waited. Nothing happened. He knocked again, louder. Once more, he was rewarded with silence.

"Sam, I know you're in there. Open up!"

Was his brother that pissed at him? He could at least open the door if he wanted to tell him to fuck off.

"Sam, if you don't open that door, I'm gonna break it down!" Dean threatened.

When there still wasn't any movement, he breathed deeply and took out his lock pick.

"I'm comin' in" he warned before forcing the door open.

He was prepared for something. A miserable looking little brother maybe. Anything. But he wasn't prepared for this.

His little brother was curled into a fetal position on the bed, cradling a pillow to his chest and rocking gently. What struck Dean the most was the mess, of course, but – was that medical equipment? Bobby had forgotten to tell him that he might find his brother with an oxygen mask strapped to his face. Communication? Anybody?

Sam didn't even seem to have noticed him. Dean shivered. He was missing some parts and frankly, he wanted someone to fill in the gaps. He closed the door and that's when his brother startled enough to notice his presence.

"Dean" Sam noted, his voice muffled. There was a storm of emotions going on in his eyes, but then they drooped tiredly. He was too exhausted and vulnerable to react.

Dean felt uncomfortable just standing there and he didn't know what to say.

"Bobby called me. He's worried, you know. Didn't want to leave you alone" Dean started rambling.

Sam blinked sluggishly.

"Son of a bitch" he whispered. There was no running away from this now.

Dean walked closer and Sam felt as if the space between them was closing in. Dean finally sat next to him and Sam tensed up and tried to roll away. He was expecting his big brother to get angry or yell at him for not calling. He wasn't expecting what Dean did next.

Instead of going all ballistic on Sam, Dean softly reached a hand out to his brother's shoulder blades and rubbed them lightly.

"Don't worry about me for now, okay. Worry about you. How about we get you better" Dean assured warmly.

Sam instantly relaxed under his brother's touch. If he'd expected a lecture, that's certainly not how it played out.

"Dean I…" he started but Dean hushed him.

"It's okay. We'll talk later. Just do whatever it is you have to do now"

Sam looked at him with dewy eyes and finally nodded. He let his head fall back and rested his eyes. Maybe his brother's presence wouldn't be so bad after all.

When he looked at the clock and realized his treatment was over, he turned everything off and put the equipment away. Dean was staring expectantly and Sam knew he owed an explanation.

"What happened, Sammy?" he asked, keeping his tone as light as he could. Sam let himself fall on the bed and propped himself up against the headrest.

"Bobby didn't tell you?"

He sounded defensive. Dean couldn't blame him. Not really.

"He didn't tell me much. Just that you've been to the hospital and how he got you out" Dean replied.

Sam nodded. It was time for him to open up and he didn't feel comfortable doing it. He chose to protect himself some more.

"What are you doing here?"

Dean saw how Sam put his walls right back up instead of opening up. It saddened him to see his brother so self conservatory.

"I've been looking for you ever since you left. I was just worried about you. And then Bobby called and told me what happened. He was worried too, you know. He wanted to make sure you weren't on your own"

Sam snorted.

"Well maybe I wanted to be on my own"

Dean pursed his lips and rubbed calloused fingers through the stubble on his chin.

"Why, Sammy? We just wanna help you" he finally asked, his pain tainting the sound of his voice.

Sam seemed to tense up next to him.

"Don't tell me you don't know why. You can't help me, okay! And I'm not gonna let you watch me deteriorate" he replied stoically. He'd made that wish clear with himself for a while already.

"Why don't you let me try? I'd rather carry you than not have you at all"

Sam was taken aback by the sudden openness his brother seemed to be displaying. If they kept going, they'd have one of those chick flicks Dean dreaded s much.

"But why, Dean? What is it to you?"

Dean had to work hard to keep his emotions under control.

"What is it to me? Damn it, Sam isn't it obvious? Because you're my brother and I love you!"

He paused to regain his breath and realized the magnitude of what he had just said. He'd meant every word but hadn't expected for this moment to turn into the proverbial chick flick. Manhood be damned, he wasn't taking it back.

Sam was staring at him. There was a mix of emotions painted on his face and he seemed to be struggling to pick out the right expression. Something was nagging him, that much Dean could tell. Sam was searching his words.

"But Dean... you get angry at me all the time. How do you love me if I make you so angry?" Sam asked, a puzzled look on his face. For a moment, Dean was reminded of Castiel. He would have to read more about the effects of CO poisoning on the brain, but for now, he had a little brother to reassure.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I make it look like I'm mad at you, but I'm not" he assured. Sam frowned deeply. Now he really did look like Castiel.

"I'm mad at myself, Sam. I realize I can't make the boo boo disappear this time and it's killing me. I wish there was anything that I could do to help" Dean confessed. It was the most he had opened up in a long time.

Sam seemed to be considering the information for a minute before he nodded.

"I know I make this hard for you" he started. Dean shook his head.

"No, don't. It's not your fault. I can't imagine what you put up with everyday"

Sam bowed his head. His big brother was opening up and it felt odd because it defied everything he perceived his brother as.

"Do you really care, Dean? You sure I'm not a liability you're eager to get rid of?"

Sam's voice was surprisingly cold. As if everything Dean had just said didn't make sense to him.

Dean looked up with sorrowful eyes.

"Do you seriously think that I'd be here if I didn't care? Do you think that I would've driven all the way down here if I wanted to get rid of you?"

Something clicked into place in Sam's head and finally, emotions rushed up his throat as realization dawned upon him. His eyes misted.

"Dean" he breathed out. His tone was completely different while his face turned into one of sorrow.

"Yeah, Sammy. I'm right here. You can always count on me, whatever you need" Dean assured.

Tears pooled in Sam's eyes and he threw his arms around his brother. Dean wrapped Sam in a comforting embrace.

Emotions seemed to run out of Sam like water. The tap was apparently on and there was nothing to stop the flow.

"I'm scared, D. What if this brain thing is permanent? I don't want to stay like this! I'm sorry I left you at the hospital. I'm sorry I doubted you. Please help me" he cried.

Dean was overwhelmed by the onslaught of bottled up emotions that currently leaked out of his brother. He held Sam tighter.

"It's okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm gonna take care 'f ya. It's my job, right" he recalled with a smile.

Sam pulled away from him with a confused frown.

"Dean?" he asked.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Why am I crying?" he questioned.

"Aw, kiddo"

SNSN

Dean quickly learned everything there was to know about his brother's condition. From the treatments – an hour of 100% pure oxygen, twice a day – to the signs to watch out for. He had read about the short-term memory loss, ataxia – which he observed in his brother still stumbling all over the place whenever he stood up – and apraxia – which saddened him when he realized his brother had forgotten how to perform such simple tasks as personal hygiene. He had to watch out for seizures as well. They were actually called _posthypoxic myoclonus_. Those muscle spasms weren't like the full on seizures his brother had had a few times in his life, but they were still disturbing.

On top of that, Sam was prone to headaches and mood swings, which had surprised him at first. He still wasn't totally used to his brother being stone cold one second and cuddly in the next. Sam was also aware of his condition. Kid was smart after all and it frustrated him to not even be able to read a book without getting a headache.

Dean was almost knocked out by a flying novel once.

"Whoa, what the hell was that?" he had asked as he had just dodged the flying projectile.

Sam had been pouting angrily.

"I can't even read a fucking kid's book! I get through one page and then can't focus on the next!"

Dean had settled next to him and put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Hey, give it some time. You're getting through the first page, that's already better than when we started!" he'd encouraged. But Sam hadn't seen it this way.

"I'm too fucking slow! Why can't I get it right?" he'd blamed himself. Dean had sighed.

"Because there's been an accident and your brain was injured. It's healing, Sam. Give it some time"

Sam had groaned in displeasure but had found no good arguments to fight back.

Eventually, the rent for the motel got expensive and with the medication Dean managed to get Sam, they needed their money. Dean found a studio at a very acceptable price and moved the two of them in. He even managed to get a couple of working hours at the grocery store down the street. It didn't pay much but his boss let him have the food leftovers for free. Dean had told him about Sam and the man had been very comprehensive. Dean was allowed to leave if ever there was an emergency.

Sam was getting better, but still had ways to go before he was 100% again.

One day, Dean had to replace a coworker on a morning shift. It wasn't his usual time. Usually, his schedule had him assisting Sam in his morning therapy. As he worked his way through the aisles, he kept remembering the conversation he'd had with his brother.

"I'll be fine, Dean. Go" Sam had assured.

"You won't forget your therapy?"

"I won't"

"You sure?"

"Dean, I've been doing this everyday for two months now. How could I forget?"

"Right. Well if you need anything, just call me"

"I will"

Dean studied his brother for a while longer and nodded.

"Okay. See you later"

"Bye, Dean"

Sam waved with a smile. Giving the kid his autonomy back did seem to cheer him up. The constant need for help had gotten his brother into dark places in the past two months. He was grateful for the fact that Bobby had called him in the first place. Sam wouldn't have pulled through if he'd been alone from the start.

The clock was moving slowly and Dean was only eager to get back to his brother and make sure Sam was okay. It's not that he didn't want to trust his little brother, but he would feel better when he saw Sam with his own eyes.

The clock finally marked the end of his shift and he almost ran back to the apartment they rented. He couldn't wait to hear his brother brag about how he had gotten better at taking care of himself.

He pushed the door open and walked inside their home. They had started calling it that and it made them both feel better.

"Sammy?" he asked. His brother wasn't coming to greet him. Dean took his boots off and walked over to Sam's bedroom. His heart started to beat faster at the second he peered inside the room.

Sam was apparently asleep _with the mask on_. His therapy was supposed to have been over for hours. "Shit!" Dean cursed. Sam wasn't supposed to keep the thing on for more than an hour. He'd read that there could be bad consequences.

He rushed to his brother's side and started tapping his cheek gently.

"Sam? Hey Sammy?" he tried while carefully taking the mask off.

Sam's eyes fluttered open.

"You fell asleep with that thing on" Dean informed, pointing to the mask he had quickly discarded.

"Sorry" Sam apologized, suddenly feeling small.

"You okay?" Dean asked right after. Sam's arms started to twitch. Dean recognized the myoclonus and grabbed his brother's shoulders tightly to ground him.

"It's okay. We've been through this before. Just breathe through it" Dean instructed.

Sam nodded and focused on his brother's eyes.

"Make it stop" he pleaded.

"Sam. Try to relax"

But while Dean was trying to soothe him, his legs started to jerk. Okay so it wasn't life-threatening but it was annoying and uncomfortable as hell.

"Dean" Sam gasped out.

He couldn't control his muscles and the helpless feeling was making him lose his focus.

"Sam, try to calm down!" Dean commanded.

His little brother listened and started to take deep breaths. As quickly as they'd come, the spasms vanished.

"Good. Feeling better?"

Sam looked ashamed and on the verge of tears.

"I wanted to prove to you that I could do this by myself" Sam admitted dejectedly. Dean felt a stab of sympathy for his brother. Sam had made so much progress after all. This one little incident wouldn't ruin his pride for his brother.

"Hey, you do that every day! The way you keep fighting this, I'm all aware of what you can do, Sammy. I'm proud of you" Dean cheered. Sam swallowed a hiccup.

"Really?"

Dean smiled warmly. "Yeah, I mean it. I couldn't be prouder" he assured.

Sam allowed himself to smile. If his brother believed in him, maybe he could give himself a chance.

SNSN

Another month later and Sam had made unbelievable progress. His mood had stabilized a lot and his attention was better. He could focus for longer periods at a time. He still had a few memory lapses but it was much better than it had been in his whole recovery. He was standing straight too and his coordination was never better. The therapy had really helped and Dean was too humble to count the many hours he'd spent teaching Sam to do everything again.

At least Sam could do most things on his own now and had stopped forgetting how to do them. He was lucky to have a brother whom had never given up on him.

One night, Dean came home from work and he was tired. More than usual actually. It had been a long week and Sam had questioned him a lot, requiring many explanations and instructions. Dean had tried to remain patient for his brother's sake, but it had been difficult at times.

When he came home that night, he really wasn't up to answering questions. He just wanted a warm shower and a comfortable bed. As he removed his boots, Sam came to greet him.

"Hey, Dean. You finished late tonight"

"Yeah, Jack called in sick and I had to close" Dean explained tiredly. He left out the part where he hadn't really done this before so it took him twice the time to get the cash register closed and the money deposit done with.

"This sucks. You must be tired"

Sam appeared to be honestly empathetic and Dean stopped to look at him for a few seconds. His brother looked good. Better than he had in months.

"Yeah. I am. What about you? How was your night?"

He was suddenly curious to know what had his brother looking so shiningly good.

"Good. Done my therapy, as always. Watched some TV too. I've been pretty quiet up here on my own"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah. There's something different about you right now. You sure you aren't hiding something?"

Sam's grin broke into a full blown smile.

"Actually there is something but I need your help"

Dean looked at his brother curiously. "Ok, what is it?"

Sam looked like a triumphant five year old.

"Have a seat first" he said, pointing to the couch. Dean cast him a suspicious sideways glance before dropping to the couch. Sam settled beside him and pulled out an illustrated novel.

"Knights of the round table?" Dean asked, recognizing the book.

"Yeah. You… you used to read it to me when I was a kid. Remember?"

Dean nodded.

"I found it last month in a sale and… I've been wanting to read this with you ever since" he admitted, suddenly worried about sounding too cheesy and scaring his brother away. What he didn't say is that he'd been practicing this every day since he'd gotten his hands on the book.

Instead of throwing a snarky reply, Dean's eyes lit with joy and something that strangely shimmered. Were these tears? Had Sam done all of that for him?

"But if you're too tired, I'd understand…" Sam started, suddenly doubtful.

Dean shook his head. He was just too surprised to find the right words to say.

"No, I'd really appreciate that. Please, go ahead"

Something shined in Sam's eyes when he started reading. He got through the first page and then the one after and the one after that. At some point, he leaned into Dean's shoulder. The eldest didn't even consider moving away. Instead, he pulled his arm up and around his brother's shoulder. Sam rested his head against Dean's chest and kept reading. Dean could only smile with pride as he remembered how his brother had once struggled to read two pages.

Sam fell asleep before he even finished the book. Dean didn't have to heart to wake him. He could only think of all the progress his brother had made and it moved him profoundly. When tears pooled in his eyes, he didn't blink them away. When they rolled down his cheeks, he didn't wipe them away.

In the end, he pulled down the back of the chair and let himself fall asleep to the sound of his brother's breathing.

SNSN

Another couple of weeks and Sam was completely back on his feet. The whole experience had been a long set back, but Dean had never complained about it. At some point they had to sit down and decide what they were going to do next.

"Dean, Leviathans are still out there. We've been out of the game for too long, already"

Dean sighed.

"Sam, I don't regret any second that we took away from the job. We've given enough, don't you think? Besides, you needed it"

Sam scowled. "Great now this makes me feel bad for being weak"

Dean was getting exasperated.

"Not weak, Sam! You were hurt! If we hadn't taken that time, it might have been permanent"

He didn't want to get angry, but maybe Sam wasn't so annoying when he'd been needy. At least, when he was defenseless, he wasn't so hard headed.

"I'm back now though and those monsters from Purgatory are still out there"

Dean wasn't ready to risk Sam's wellbeing on a hunt. He had almost lost too much already.

"We don't have to do this now. We can still wait until you're ready to hunt again. You're out of shape, after all"

Sam snorted.

"Then I better get back to it now. Like you said, I'm out of shape. Sitting here and doing nothing won't do me any good"

Dean rolled his eyes. He hadn't missed that in the past months.

"Whatever, monsters can wait tomorrow. I'm gonna crash for the night" he announced.

Sam watched his brother walk off towards his room. He waited until he was sure he was alone and then pulled out his flask and unscrewed the top. Brain damage or not, he hadn't forgotten the sweet escape that alcohol provided.

A shadow appeared in front of him. He gulped down a considerable amount of liquor before looking up.

When he did, Lucifer was staring back at him with a wide grin.

'Hey Sam! Did you miss me?'


End file.
